


Graffiti (on my heart)

by jessrsermt



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: AU, Annabeth isn't an architect here sorry, F/M, Fluff, Punk!Percy - Freeform, Tattoo, drunk!Annabeth, she also can't handle her alcohol lol, so it became a twoshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-07-12 22:56:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16005032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessrsermt/pseuds/jessrsermt
Summary: A short Annabeth and Percy story, or that one in which Annabeth Chase is the daughter of a well-off businessman but is contented with her humble flower shop, and Percy Jackson is a tattoo artist with just too many inks down his arms and body, and a mop of raven hair with neon blue tips. Somehow, they’ve already been dating for nine months. Percy still could not believe.“you can’t get tattooed drunk, come back in the morning and if you still want my name on your ass we’ll talk” AU





	1. Graffiti (on my heart)

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson and the Olympians, and The Heroes of Olympus. Both belong to Rick Riordan.
> 
> The title is inspired by SAMAHTA's (feat. Melody Federer) Graffiti. Check the song out.

 

They have been dating for nine months.

 

Percy won’t admit it, but he counts the days he’s been with Annabeth – _the_ Annabeth Chase.

 

Sometimes, he can’t possibly believe that out of all the people in the world Annabeth chose _him._ He was only but a speck of dust to her world. He can’t give her a better life than what she has, and yet, the grey-eyed lady continues to stay with him.

 

Whereas Percy looked like the evil mobster from a noir movie, Annabeth is the exact opposite.

 

Annabeth’s laugh is contagious, like a pick-me-up that can brighten any foul mood. She talks calmly too, just as much as the sea lulls its voyagers. She has the brightest grey eyes Percy has ever seen, and in his opinion, the most beautiful too. She’s kind, funny, smart, and all those other good things. She can’t draw for the hell of it, but Percy makes up for her lack in that department. Percy thinks she’s absolutely ethereal, even now that she’s standing in front of him—red-faced and definitely miles away from being sober.

 

She had attended a friend’s bachelorette’s party, and had called him almost half an hour ago that she needed him to pick her up.

 

Percy didn’t need to ask, or Annabeth didn’t even need to say it. He knew she was drunk. He knows how much she’s weak against alcoholic beverages. He once watched her drank two shot glasses of vodka, and that was already enough to make her a walking giggle fit.

 

“How many did you have?” He remembered asking her in his car, after he had strapped the seatbelt around her. Percy liked his motorbike, but he realized he might also need a car. The car isn’t much, but it gets him to places, and he can pick Annabeth up without giving her a heart attack.

 

Annabeth, with her eyes closed, only hummed. Percy repeated the question slowly. She hummed again, but lolled her head, almost hitting it on the car’s window.

 

Percy jumped, putting a hand on her head, and laughing a little. “Babe, how many did you drink?” He repeated again.

 

“One,” She murmured, smiling sweetly at him, eyes still closed. It was so silly, but it warmed the pit of Percy’s stomach.

 

“One,” he repeated incredulously.

 

“Yes, one,” she repeated, slurring a little. She opened her eyes to slits, and cupped Percy’s cheeks in her hands. “One bot,” she stopped, frowning a little. “Bow—no,” she paused again. “How’d ju say heet?”

 

Percy was grinning now, although he could feel a headache coming as he was realizing what she was telling him. If he’s right she’s telling him, “One bottle?” He asked her.

 

“Exactlee,” she patted his cheeks. A bright grin erupted on her face. “My bee-ef is so smart,” she murmured again, before lolling her head to the side, and passing out.

 

Percy shook his head a little, and laughed. He leaned in to peck her on her forehead and drove to her house.

 

Well, it was the plan, not until five minutes on the road. “Let’s go to your shop,” he heard her murmur.

 

He threw her a quick glance. She’s awake, but still looked a little over her sensible side.

 

“I’m going to take you home,” he replied.

 

“Percy, pwease,” she muttered again.

 

Percy snorted, yet complied. Annabeth Chase is decent and formal. She texts with complete words. She doesn’t like it when Percy uses “ttyl” and not “talk to you later.” They’ve been dating for nine months and counting, but Percy is still learning more about her. He wants to know her, forever.

 

And now that they’re in his tattoo parlor, he thinks Annabeth Chase can just be the most wonderful human being. He’d kiss her right then and there, if she just wasn’t too drunk. Besides, who knows what’ll happen after that? Percy believes those things are supposed to be done sober. His tattoos and neon blue hair didn’t mean he’s trash.

 

“No, I won’t do that,” Percy told Annabeth. He had his arms crossed in front of him to look authoritative but the grin on his face was failing to make him look the part.

 

“Why ever not?” She asked him. She was tapping one foot on the ground, while her hands were on her hips. Her long golden princess curls were not as tamed during her good days. Her mascara was smudged down her eyes. She looked red, and about to just collapse from exhaustion. She didn’t look her best, but Percy thought she’s beautiful.

 

“Oh, _amica mea_ ,” he only said, taking a step closer. Percy tucked her hair behind her ears, and added, “No, I won’t do it.”

 

She only frowned at him, obviously not amused that he’s not doing her request.

 

Annabeth only stared at him for a while. Percy wanted to give in, really, but he just laughed.

 

“You can’t get tattooed drunk, babe,” he told her, holding in a laugh, trying to sound stern.

 

“But it’s a nice idea,” Annabeth protested.

 

Percy couldn’t contain the laugh anymore. Annabeth only nudged him. When he’s calmed down, Percy planted a kiss on her crown.

 

He pulled away slightly, and said, “I’ll drive you home now, okay? You can come back in the morning. When you’re fully rested, properly functioning and still want my name tattooed on your ass, _then_ we’ll talk.”

 

“But,” she was just about to protest. Percy, as much as he’s enjoying seeing this side of her, picked her up and carried her in his arms—bridal style.

 

“Yeah, we’ll talk tomorrow,” he told her, smiling down at her.

 

“But it was such a good idea,” Annabeth murmured again, as she nestled her head on his chest, eventually falling asleep.

 

Percy carried her back in his car, put on her seatbelt, and drove through the quiet night with a smile on his face.


	2. (I've had) The Time of My Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annabeth Chase is the daughter of a well-off businessman and, still is, contented with her humble flower shop. Even though Percy Jackson decided to finish college to become a marine biologist, he is still the same tattoo artist with a mop of raven hair minus the neon blue tips; and just more inks down his arms and body. They’ve been married for six years. Annabeth and Percy believe it’s a dream turned into reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another (semi) short percabeth fic with a song title; I swear, it’s probably a disease of mine by now. Life and commitments have been kicking my ass, and so I went back home to the countryside to unwind; met up with a good friend and got our hair done by my hairdresser. There, we shared stories and laughs. What you’re about to read is inspired by the stories we partook in.
> 
> S/o to Bel, my salon buddy; life would be a little more unbearable without you.
> 
> Disclaimer: Percy Jackson and Heroes of Olympus are owned by Rick Riordan. The title is from the original motion picture soundtrack of Dirty Dancing; 1987.

Annabeth Jackson née Chase’s image stared back at her.

 

She grinned, baring her white teeth so she could check if something was stuck there. There was nothing, of course. Her nude lipstick wasn’t smudged and her blonde curls weren’t astray. Sure, she still got the dark circles under her eyes from the beach wedding gig the flower shop tended to, a few days ago. The job demanded her team to stay under the sun for long hours, just so they could plan and set everything up perfectly for the couple; but the pay was good, and she couldn’t let it pass.

 

Piper’s laughter rang out and got Annabeth’s attention.

 

The Cherokee was merrily talking with Juniper and Hazel. Honestly, Annabeth should be laughing with them, too, but the three act as though they cannot see or do not know her, at all. The first day was bearable; Annabeth thought they weren’t in the mood to socialize or were just all in a rush. The second day was frustrating, and today was just getting painful.

 

Annabeth stared, but not one of them regarded her. They were friends first before they became parents to the very kindergarteners they’d wait for, five days a week. She doesn’t really know if she’s done something to offend them or not. Sighing, she closed the camera of her phone and pocketed it.

 

Subtly, Annabeth ducked down her head to smell her armpits. Nope, she doesn’t smell bad, thank you very much.

 

Luckily, Annabeth no longer has to succumb to more excruciating and self-deprecating measures. The nursery’s bell rang, and in a few minutes, out came her daughter.

 

The dark-haired four-year-old girl’s big vibrant green eyes zeroed in on Annabeth. A wide grin split on her cherubic face, gracing the world with her dimples. “Mommy!” she exclaimed as she bounded towards her like an overenthusiastic Labrador.

 

“Hello, _amica mea_ ,” Annabeth wrapped her daughter in her arms, warming every bit of her soul.

 

“I got a lot of stars, mommy,” Lysandra beamed at her mother. She showed her the open booklet filled with small golden stickers in the shape of stars.

 

Annabeth smiled at her daughter. “I’m proud of you, baby.”

 

Lysandra beamed again. She looked at her booklet, excitement, and awe in her eyes as she took in her own version of the galaxy.

 

Hazel, Juniper, and Piper, with their own kids walking beside them, passed the mother and child. “Bye, Lysa!” The three parents almost said in unison.

 

“Goodbye!” Lysandra waved at them, rather cheerfully. She said goodbye to each woman’s child, too, because she’s _that_ friendly. Her father might give off a troublemaker vibe, but Annabeth knows their daughter got that from him.

 

The three women’s kids grinned. “Bye, Aunt Annabeth!” They said in chorus. Well, at least, their kids still seem to know Annabeth. It was a slight respite; Annabeth was glad to wave back.

 

When they’ve gone, the blonde woman felt someone tug at the hem of her shirt. She looked down. Sure enough, her daughter was staring back with worry in her eyes.

 

“Are you sad, mommy?” Lysandra asked her.

 

For a moment, Annabeth couldn’t do anything but stare back. Lysandra looks so much like the small female version of her husband; but often, she shows she’s a completely different person on her own, too. Sometimes, she’d look at their daughter and she’d think “Wow _we_ made her” and it’s enough to render her tender and make her want another one more.

 

“A bit, baby,” she told her daughter, honestly. Lysandra leaped and flung her small arms around her. Annabeth almost stumbled back but kept her ground. She smiled.

 

“Daddy says hugs are the cure for sad bugs.” The four-year-old murmured. Annabeth found herself laughing.

 

Later, as they make their way to their car, she would think that hugs aren’t the cure to sadness but they are a start; she’d also think that her husband is a dork, and she’s as serious as a beaver when she tells him she loves him.

 

They were dating for a little over three years when Percy Jackson decided to pursue his old dream of becoming a marine biologist. But it wasn’t the only dream the green-eyed man aimed for, he also finally asked Annabeth Chase’s hand in marriage. The proposal wasn’t grand. It was kept private and simple, but was magical and wonderful, nonetheless. During their second year as one and Percy’s sophomore year in college, Lysandra went on her way to add more colors to their life. They’ve been married for five years—six now, in a couple of weeks—although admittedly hard, most days are still as good as before; some days, they’re even better.

 

“Eat your broccoli, Lysandra.” Annabeth firmly told her daughter before forking soft chunks of carrots into her mouth.

 

Lysandra looked contemptuously at the green edible flower heads on her plate. She looked at her mother with a pout and then at her father.

 

Percy didn’t say anything, but Annabeth could practically hear his heart thaw at their daughter’s doe eyes that were perfectly aimed at him. All his chicken pasta’s already finished off. With a fork in hand, he was only playing with the vegetables on his plate. Annabeth smirked, waiting for her husband’s next move.

 

A few seconds ticked, his green eyes finally looked up to meet Annabeth’s grey. Before he could even say anything, she told him, “Eat your vegetables, Percy.”

 

Her husband, because he’s an actual three-year-old, stuck out his tongue at her, good-humoredly. On good days, she would remind him how if he can get so many tattoos then a bunch of vegetables can’t defeat him; but today wasn’t just that day—or night, rather.

 

“You heard your mom, _amica mea_.” He addressed their daughter. “We’re going to have to eat our vegetables.” He smiled at her, for good measures.

 

“Okay,” the four-year-old said in defeat.

 

Annabeth looked at her husband in gratitude. He grinned at her in return.

 

It was only after all the dishes were cleaned and Lysandra was finally tucked in bed, asleep, that Percy asked her what was bothering her. Annabeth told him about the past few days; how she felt so ignored; that she doesn’t even know if she did something wrong, and how that frustrates her.

 

In all honesty, Annabeth doesn’t know how Percy managed to comfort her. She had been complaining and worrying, at first, and then she was laughing at his tacky puns and amusing stories. He told her about his day at work; their coming dives for their latest field research, and his plan to visit his mom this weekend.

 

“I’d love to visit Sally,” Annabeth smiled up at Percy. He had one arm under and around her waist as her head lay on his chest. A grin brightened his tan face.

 

Annabeth thought that was the end of their conversation for the night. What people do not know about Percy Jackson is that he barely promises anything to anyone. And if he does, he keeps it. So when he told her “Everything will be better tomorrow, gorgeous. I promise;” Annabeth believed him.

 

‡

 

“I don’t know about this, guys.” Annabeth chewed her bottom lip as she walked between Thalia and Piper. “What kind of customer asks a florist to check a birthday party venue at _this_ time?”

 

“A highly stressed customer,” Piper answered.

 

Thalia snorted. “A highly _disorganized_ customer,” she corrected. Piper glanced at her with a withering look.

 

“When is the event, anyway?” The blonde asked them, stopping at the sidewalk.

 

“The day after tomorrow,” Piper replied, tugging on both her arms as she tried to make her start moving again.

 

“What,” Annabeth spluttered. She was disappointed and shocked by her customer’s apparent lack of good planning.

 

Piper gave her a meaningful look. Thalia laughed but lent a hand in dragging her to wherever this event is supposed to happen in less than a couple of days.

 

Frowning, Annabeth told them, “You still haven’t told me why you were all ignoring me.”

 

Piper had the audacity to gasp in shock. “No, we were not.”

 

Annabeth raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow at her.

 

“We’ve been really busy, Annie,” Thalia managed to answer.

 

Thalia’s reason, Annabeth can understand; but Piper’s? She wasn’t buying. She made sure to narrow her silver eyes at her just to pass the message. Piper only smiled, nonchalant.

 

The ride from her shop to the lush hotel, where said event is to be held, was a twenty-minute drive. But since it was Thalia who was behind the wheel, twenty became fifteen. Annabeth swore no carnival ride can defeat that experience.

 

Annabeth’s phone pinged. She pulled it out of her pocket to see a message from Percy. The message was only a bunch of kissy and smiley emojis, and an attached picture of him and Lysandra curled up on the couch with a bowl of popcorn. She knows her husband and daughter too well to tell that the popcorn mix has both barbeque and cheese flavoring.

 

“Let’s go, Annabeth!” Piper called from outside the car.

 

The blonde nodded, pocketed her phone back and stepped out of the car. She threw an appraising look at the grand hotel in front of them, admiring the structure and style of the edifice. She hopes the customer got one of those economic-type halls. She’s plenty confident with her team, but she’s not exactly sure they’d have enough flowers to decorate a spacious grand ballroom.

 

As luck would have it, the customer _did_ rent out one of those smaller halls for a more intimate event. Annabeth inwardly sighed in relief.

 

Her two friends told her the customer was waiting for them inside. With one hand each on the double door’s handle, they pushed open. Annabeth stumbled inside, thanks to Piper’s unwanted push from behind.

 

Cold air greeted Annabeth first, and then the dark.

 

She was about to state the obvious when the lights all turned at once, revealing her grinning friends as they shouted “Surprise!”

 

A few party poppers exploded and spewed pieces and pieces of colorful confetti. The cream net hanging from the ceiling was broken and showered them blue and grey balloons. Someone, somewhere in the room, was spinning a noisemaker.

 

The surprise didn’t settle in only until Annabeth was reading the painted banner in front of her that said “Advance Happy Wedding Anniversary” in glittery and flamboyant colors.

 

Annabeth began to sob. The noise died down.

 

“I’m happy,” she clarified, voice already nasal. As if it was approval enough, they all shrieked in glee and attacked her in a hug.

 

Annabeth was still sniffling, but she thanked them all with flushed cheeks and misty eyes. “You shouldn’t have,” she told them, looking at each of their delighted expression.

 

“Hey, friends can throw amazing wedding anniversary parties, too,” Hazel spoke. She had her curly cinnamon brown hair tied back with a pink ribbon. The room’s wan, almost bar-ish lighting, was a wonder to her dark skin; a pleased look on her face. Annabeth crushed her in a hug, making the younger woman squeal.

 

When she pulled away, Annabeth finally looked around the room. All her female friends were there. Reyna, who she swore went back to Puerto Rico to settle some family matters, was there too in a purple blouse and skinny jeans. Annabeth had a flashback of her bachelorette party, years ago; she laughed.

 

There were a few black and white tall-back couches and a long buffet table with assortments of food. The walls were decorated with blue, grey and a few stray yellow balloons, banners and flags. Annabeth’s eyes wandered back to the greeting banner and the painted caricature below it.

 

A laugh escaped Annabeth, as she stared at the hilarious caricature. Exaggerated representations of her and Percy stared back at her. Their heads were big and their bodies were small. Caricature-Annabeth, who was in a red polka dotted bikini, was wrapped in Caricature-Percy’s arms. The grin on their faces would have looked normal, if not for their oversized heads.

 

Her grey eyes wandered again. She regarded the few carnations, geraniums and calla lilies placed around the room to bring a more authentic vibe. Work-wise, she’d arrange them differently; still, she liked them just because.

 

“Juniper arranged them,” Thalia supplied for her.

 

“Thank you,” Annabeth turned to the woman of subject.

 

Juniper waved a hand in the air and said, “You would’ve done better. It’s your forte, after all.”

 

“I love them, Juniper.” The blonde insisted, gripping her hands, gently.

 

It wasn’t long until Piper and Rachel dragged her to “Something you should definitely see, Annabeth!” The two gripped her by her arms; their friends following behind them, already giggling.

 

_Penises_ ; there were penises everywhere. There were chocolates shaped like the male sex organ. There were loaves of penis bread and meatballs too. And, is that a penis _cake?_ Annabeth’s neck turned red first, followed by her cheeks, and then her entire head, probably. Her friends started laughing and wheezing, but honestly, Annabeth wasn’t still sure if she was going to laugh or cry in utter confusion.

 

“We made them,” Piper said proudly. She picked up one penis chocolate and moved it towards Annabeth, or at least she tried to. The blonde wouldn’t even dare touch it.

 

“Actually, we _tried_ to make them,” Rachel clarified, “but we couldn’t stop laughing for every five minutes. We gave up on our fourth try. Calypso and Hazel did most of the work.”

 

“Let me tell you. It’s the most challenging shape I have ever made.” Calypso added, which earned her a few laughs.

 

The penis cake almost felt taunting to Annabeth. To give the image, on top of it were two hard-boiled eggs; a red jumbo hotdog sticking up, and ample mayonnaise pooling and sliding down its length. Annabeth internally groaned. She was afraid to ask, but her curiosity got the best of her. “How about the cake? Who did that?” She gestured wildly towards the very same thing, as though the sweet baked food might turn into a dancing spider. It would have been funny for any other person, but she’s always been terrified of those eight-legged spawns of the devil.

 

Thalia and Piper raised their hands smugly. Annabeth wasn’t exactly surprised. They _do_ have pretty fat brains and extensive imagination.

 

Piper offered her another bite of the chocolate penis, but Annabeth adamantly refused. The former might have teasingly told her something about her sliding her husband’s real thing between her lips, but the blonde stubbornly tried not to hear anything.

 

A few more minutes of pulling each other’s legs and jokes, Annabeth asked if they can already eat. Besides, she saw a few bottles of her favorite tequila. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t want a few shots of that. Sadly, her friends said no because they still have a few more surprises left and “You can’t even hold your own at drinking, Annabeth.”

 

_Rude_ , Annabeth thought but conceded.

 

Piper raised both her hands in the air, to get everyone’s attention.

 

“Whatever happens next must never get to Percy Jackson, alright?” She asked all of them. Annabeth only raised an eyebrow, but all their friends nodded in agreement.

 

The Cherokee grinned, finally putting down her raised hands, and said, “On to the next gift!”

 

“You will never be ready.” Annabeth’s old Logic professor from her college days would often tell their class. Annabeth Jackson née Chase likes to take pride in the idea that she’s ready, most of the time. She didn’t really expect to be blindfolded for their next “gift.” There was no point in denying that she wasn’t ready for this because she truly isn’t. She really doesn’t like it when her professor is right.

 

Being blindfolded was, to put it simply, dark. Annabeth didn’t like it for the facts that she couldn’t see anything and she has mixed up ideas on what’s about to happen. There’s always been something frustrating in not knowing and in the utter cyclone of confusion.

 

Of course, Annabeth isn’t completely out of the dark. She wanted to roll her eyes at the unintended pun. Percy rubs on her a lot, in more ways than one. Going back to the plight at hand, she has an inkling idea that she will be submitted into some kind of ecdysiast performance. She’s watched too many movies and had attended bachelorette parties before, to know what she’s being coerced into.

 

Heavenly father, she wishes she was just at home; curled up next to Percy and their four-year-old daughter. They could be watching _Finding Nemo_ or _Shark Tale_ , or _Moana_ even, or any animated movies about aquatic creatures and water. “Upon our Lysa’s request,” Percy would say, but Annabeth knows better.

 

No one should get her wrong. Annabeth _is_ flattered by her friend’s surprise advanced wedding anniversary party. She’s touched by their efforts and unyielding desire to keep it a secret and give her the wow factor a surprise demands. They’ve ignored her for too long that she swore she’d start groveling on her knees to know what she did wrong; and honestly, Annabeth Jackson née Chase does _not_ grovel.

 

A few snickers later, Piper asked her, “You ready, Annabeth?”

 

“No,” Annabeth grumbled. They laughed again. The blonde wanted to curse them, but a lady does not curse, so she only frowned.

 

“Hit it, Thalia!” The Cherokee said in delight.

 

A heartbeat passed, a tune started to play. Annabeth groaned; irritated. The familiar saxophone riff started. As the singer of the popular power ballad started to hum, her friend’s started to shriek and giggle again.

 

Rough hands cradled her cheeks. Annabeth flinched. She was about ready to jump off her chair, when she heard Thalia call out, “Don’t even think about it, Annie.” Grumbling again, she remained seated on her chair, as the music continued and her friends laughed.

 

The man, she assumed the striptease, began to move his hands down her cheeks to her lips; to the curve of her neck and down her shoulders and arms.

 

Annabeth’s cheeks burned. What was she doing? She’s a married woman to a loving husband. Sure, he can be an idiot sometimes, but he’s her idiot. Not to mention, she’s a mom to a wonderful four-year-old girl who looks so much like her father. Bottom line, this isn’t something a family person would do.

 

“What are you doing?” She asked, incredulously but not without poison, as she felt the ecdysiast danced his suggestive moves closer. The man didn’t say anything but continued dancing. Annabeth is generally a kind, sweet person; but people who are close with her, know better than to cross her bad side. Apparently, this person is either getting paid quite a lot or doesn’t have the slightest idea who he’s messing with.

 

“Don’t scare away the exotic dancer, Annabeth.” Piper said from somewhere. “Live a little!” Annabeth knows her too well to know that she’s probably taking pictures of her demise and living off of it.

 

“You live a little,” the blonde grumbled back.

 

“Very mature, Annabeth,” it was Reyna. Although she couldn’t see the Puerto Rican, she still whipped her head towards the source of her voice.

 

“I can’t believe you’re in this, Reyna.” Annabeth said, in disbelief. “I expected better.”

 

Reyna only laughed. Annabeth, left to deal with the striptease alone, grumbled. She realized she’s been doing that a lot. Her stress level could practically compete with that one time she was worrying over the actuality that she’s going to meet Percy’s family. Obviously, that went well. They loved her. Especially Sally, the moment she laid eyes on her. However, the moment at hand seems thoroughly different.

 

The exotic dancer or striptease, or whatever, would often wound her blonde curls around his fingers and playfully tug on them. Sometimes, he’d run his hands up her arms to the dip of her blouse’s collar and up her jaw and cheeks. He kept caressing her lips, too. Annabeth would strike blindly at him to keep him away, but he established he has the tenacity of a cockroach. So she can’t really do anything but bottle up her anger, because so help her god, she _would_ kick him where the sun doesn’t shine.

 

Years were what the song felt like. Annabeth thought the worst was over when the song finally ended. She was done feeling the dancer’s bulge, fleeting sensual touches, and his gyrating body. No matter how annoying her friends are, she’s more than ready to share a few glasses of tequila with them. Okay maybe _after_ she strangles all of them, not including Hazel because _no one_ can really get mad at Hazel. Besides, she’s still a lightweight at drinking; she’s come to terms with that painful fact.

 

All her hopes and dreams were crushed, when she felt the man’s hands pushed her back on the chair as a new song started to play.

 

“What is this?” Annabeth screamed, no longer hiding her exasperation.

 

“We paid for two songs, _mon amie,_ ” Rachel answered her. There was obvious humor in her voice.

 

“Don’t _mon amie_ me, Dare,” Annabeth bit back, “we’re not friends, right now.”

 

Her friends laughed again. If Annabeth can roll her grey eyes under her blindfold, she would have already done it.

 

The song that was playing is one of Annabeth’s favorites. _(I’ve had) The Time of My Life_ is one of _Dirty Dancing_ ’s soundtracks and her and Percy’s personal favorite. This is _their_ song and not some damn gigolo’s musical routine. She wanted to cry and shout and maybe punch a couple of hooks and jabs, too.

 

When Jennifer Warnes started singing, kisses were peppered on her face. The striptease kissed her cheeks, her nose, her lips, and her chin and down her neck.

 

Annabeth spluttered, for a moment, and then she was pushing him back. Her friends were laughing, but she couldn’t hear any of it. There was a ringing in her ears, and oh god she’s happily married and what the hell is wrong with my friends? Are they on crack?

 

“What the fuck?” she asked. The laughter only swells. Annabeth Jackson née Chase barely swears, after all. It’s practically a celestial event.

 

The “dancer” held her by the waist. She pushed him away and shrieked, “Piss off douche!”

 

He kissed her on her lips again and then her cheeks. They were butterfly kisses, fleeting and instantly over, but nonetheless, still wrong in her mind.

 

“You’re an asshole!” Annabeth swiped the air to effectively get him away. She hit nothing but air. Her friends were still laughing. She groaned and grumbled. “I will damn cut your dick off with my loppers. I swear to all things holy!”

 

Annabeth’s threats weren’t taken seriously. _As tenacious as a cockroach_ , she thought again and might’ve called him a few more offensive terms in Swedish.

 

The laughter didn’t subside. The blonde swore she could hear Piper and Thalia gasping for air. She can imagine them bending over, hands on their abdomen as they laugh their heads off.

 

It must have been halfway through the song when Annabeth decided that it was all over. She couldn’t keep being treated this way.

 

Annabeth raised one fist up in the air and a knee set in ready to render the man incapable of breeding. Her friends were telling her to stop and “No, Annabeth” but she wouldn’t listen. She finally yanked the blindfold off her.

 

Brilliant and familiar green eyes were the first things she saw.

 

“Happy anniversary, gorgeous,” her husband told her. There was that endearing mischievous smirk on his lips and spark in his bright green eyes. Annabeth really loves him. She began crying again with this new surprise. He took her in his arms. Their friends cooed and laughed. It took some time for her to calm down, but later, she would be laughing and crying with her friends. It’s a good life.

 

All this time, it had been Percy all along. God, she almost reduced her husband infertile.

 

“Happy anniversary, dork,” Annabeth tells him later; his arms around her waist. “I’m not sorry I hit you, though.”

 

Percy snorted. He stared at his wife long enough to have her cheeks burn red and hot. She was sweaty and her mascara was slightly smudged. Beautiful still, he thinks. He would grin at her. He would swoop down to steal a sweet kiss and then he’d come up with a goofy grin like they aren’t any older than they were ten years ago.

 

It turns out, Percy Jackson didn’t come alone. Grover, who she’s sure was on the other side of the planet for some kind of save the planet campaign, went with him. Annabeth squealed and hugged him tightly. The man with curly brown hair was enthusiastic to hug her back. He told them stories with over exaggerated recreations and sound effects; Juniper could only laugh fondly at her husband.

 

Jason, Piper, Reyna, and Thalia were talking over a bottle of tequila and a bowl of chips and ceviche. Rachel, Katie and the Stoll brothers were laughing at Will’s umpteenth proclamation of how much the amount of dicks in the room overwhelms him. Nico only laughs at his boyfriend’s antics, as he stuffed his mouth with a handful of fries.

 

On another side of the room, Calypso and Hazel looked on, amusedly, as their husbands tick each other off. It was actually Leo challenging Frank on a duel, with the chocolate penises as their swords. Frank would only roll his eyes, because “Honestly, Leo, are you thirty or three?” Leo would then act put off and turn to Hazel. “Your husband is a wet blanket, Hazel,” he’d tell her. And Frank would only grunt, but Leo would try again.

 

Percy nudged her. He handed her his phone to show a message from his mother, wishing them to have a good time. With the message was an image of Sally; his stepfather, Paul; his little sister, Estelle, and Lysandra smiling and crowding together for a good picture. Annabeth nodded and smiled back at the picture as if they could see her reaction. Percy grabbed her face with both his hands and placed a kiss on the crown of her head

 

They weren’t well into the night yet, when the music would be stopped. Percy cleared his throat, calling for everyone’s attention.

 

He turned to face Annabeth, a goofy grin on his face that makes him look years younger. He doesn’t say anything for a while, but his verdant eyes seem to convey various poetries. He cleared his throat, and then he was talking.

 

“Annabeth, _amica mea_ ,” he grinned. Annabeth grinned back, because after ‘Seaweed Brain’ and ‘Wise Girl’ it was their next endearment. Although they use it now to their four-year-old daughter, it still brings out so much emotion.

 

“We’ve been together for ten years, and married for five; six years now in a few days, because yes, I _can_ do simple math.” He said, making everyone laugh. “Every day, I learn more about you. Every day, I am grateful for the days I spend with you and our daughter. I don’t know how it works, but every day, I love you more and more. We may not always agree on everything and our anniversary may only last for twenty-four hours, but my love for you is for a lifetime.” Percy grins again, his evergreen eyes misty with tears.

 

Annabeth was already crying. Her husband gently wipes her tears away with his thumbs. Everyone was watching them with fond eyes, but for the couple, it felt like it was only them. A bubble envelopes them; there’s no one they could see except each other.

 

“I know couples normally do this after five or ten years of marriage. But I think, we’ve long proven that we’re not a normal couple.” He said, earning another round of laughter.

 

Percy knelt down. Annabeth’s breathing hitched at the too familiar gesture.

 

The green-eyed man pulled out a small blue velvet box from the pocket of his dark pants. He gently opens the box. An emerald diamond baguette ring in yellow karat gold winked at her under the room’s faint light.

 

“Will you marry me again and renew your vows with me?”

 

Annabeth cries again because damn it. Why is she so lucky? She must have done something worthy of canonization in her past life because she can’t have someone as great as Percy Jackson without earning him properly, right?

 

_Yes,_ she kept thinking. “Yes,” is what she only said because she was too overwhelmed to form any other words aside from that.

 

Their audience cheered. Still, their eyes remained on each other.

 

A grin broke on Percy’s face. His green eyes were rimmed red and sheen. He pulled the ring from its case and slipped it on her ring finger where it stacked together with the gold band which he used to ask for her hand, six years ago.

 

As soon as he was back up on his feet, he pulled her into his arms. He hugged her tight, pulled away and kissed her deeply. They kissed as though no one was watching; as though, they’ve only been married for a year; maybe less. They’re not, but it sure felt like that. It was like fireworks and the flow of a stream.

 

This is neither the beginning nor the end of the time of their life. It’s one of the many zeniths of their love for a lifetime. It’s not perfect. Nothing ever is, but Annabeth and Percy believe it’s a dream turned into reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for giving this fic your time. I know staying strong is exhausting. Hold on. Per aspera ad astra.


End file.
